


Off the Rails

by OmoYasha



Series: Omovember 2020 [17]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Embarrassment, Gen, M/M, Omorashi, Piers continues to be a hot mess, Piers is kind of a dumbass, Pre-Relationship, Swearing, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:06:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29479647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmoYasha/pseuds/OmoYasha
Summary: Omovember day 17: Peeing in a bottleAt this point, he might as well accept that public transportation was cursed... at least when it came to taking it with Raihan.(direct sequel to "Ungrounded", although you can probably get away reading out of order if you so desire)
Series: Omovember 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998742
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	Off the Rails

**Author's Note:**

> The saga of Piers embarrassing himself in front of Raihan continues.
> 
> WARNING: THIS IS A STORY ABOUT PEE. PLEASE READ THE TAGS.

Piers tapped his fingers rhythmically against the glass, watching the vague shapes speed by in the darkness outside. He was so far outside his comfort zone, he might as well be in a different country.

Actually, scratch that. He _literally was_ in a different country by now, wasn’t he? Considering the train was headed to Kalos for some kind of complicated, formal, interleague event.

It was exactly the kind of thing that Piers made a habit of doing everything in his power to avoid – usually with great success.

He could glory in the spotlight when he was singing; tolerate it when he was battling.

But the high society socializing? It never failed to make him wish the ground would split open and swallow him whole.

In another country, hundreds of miles from home, it just felt twice as unnatural. People in Kalos had different manners, different customs. They spoke a _different language_.

Piers, as he was all too keenly aware, barely spoke _standard Galarian._

He’d rather hide in a pit full of Trubbish than go to one of these without arm-twisting, no matter how good it’d be for his gym’s reputation.

Piers never claimed to be a very _good_ gym leader, after all.

…but he wasn’t the only Spikemuth gym leader these days. And Marnie – already shaping up to be a far better gym leader than Piers had ever hoped to manage himself – had insisted on going with her typical steadfast determination.

“They’re sendin’ _their_ champion and top four!” she’d pointed out. “It’s only right we match’em. And _we’re_ number two, Piers. Have a little pride, why don’cha?”

Marnie was certain they ought to go. And Piers was still mentoring her, co-leading the gym for Marnie’s first year.

And yes, he _could’ve_ sent her out on her own, with a “Cheers, then,” and a shove out the gate – it was technically allowed, as attested to by the rather cranky silver haired adolescent curled under a fluffy pink coat further up the train.

Rumor had it Opal had laughed in Leon’s face when he asked about the tournament, and then, with no hesitation whatsoever, said, “I’m too old for this. He’ll go.” And gleefully signed her ward up without a second glance, and without waiting for Bede’s yea or nay.

It was allowed.

But he’d feel like an absolutely shit brother if he made Marnie go to her first international tournament _alone_.

Especially when he could tell, despite her enthusiasm, Marnie was only a little less mystified by the formalities and etiquette than he’d been starting out – if considerably less terrified.

So here he was, in a railway car with three twelve year olds, Gordie, and _Raihan_. 

It was a long train ride from Wyndon to Lumiose City.

Piers hadn’t really thought too much of it, aside from how boring it would be. At least, not until the water he’d been drinking made itself known in his bladder.

He didn’t regret the water – it had been a warm day, and Marnie gave him dirty looks if he reminded her to stay hydrated without having a drink himself. He really hadn’t drunk an outrageous amount, and it _was_ important to stay hydrated… even if he usually wasn’t the best poster child for healthy habits.

But still. Train bathrooms weren’t exactly renowned for their comfort or cleanliness, and he’d really rather just wait until they hit the train station in Lumiose.

And besides, the idea of walking past all the other gym leaders; having them know exactly where he was going and what he was doing was… a little unappealing, if he was honest.

Especially Raihan.

Piers didn’t give a shit what the brats thought of him – well, except for Marnie of course, but Marnie really wasn’t likely to care much about his bathroom habits.

He only had _slightly_ more interest in Gordie’s opinion.

 _Raihan_ , though…

Not only was the man incessantly nosy, and thus far more likely to stick his face in Piers’s business in the first place, he was also… someone Piers could really respect, despite their dramatically different styles.

For some odd reason, it seemed like Raihan actually wanted to get to know Piers, as well – challenging him to friendly matches and rematches, even after – _especially after_ – he announced his intention to retire as a gym leader. He chatted in the locker rooms, even brought them both coffee one morning saying he knew Piers had a concert the night before.

He had no idea why Raihan even knew that; he was pretty sure the other man didn’t listen to his music.

He really didn’t understand why the other man had taken such an interest in interacting with him – what he got out of putting so much effort into someone like Piers. It was weird, and it made him uncomfortable, not knowing how to react.

But it was also… sweet.

Maybe Raihan, sociable and energetic as he was, was just like this with everyone – it certainly seemed believable.

But Piers didn’t spend time with many people like that. People who were thoughtful, who he could relate to, who he could approach on an equal footing. Who were persistent enough to put up with his bullshit.

And Raihan was, for whatever reason, _stupidly_ (but flatteringly) persistent. Even though Piers basically opened the relationship with a series of increasingly bad, humiliating fuckups, Raihan just… ignored them, and casually showed up next time just the same.

Piers would have thought the catastrophic degree of fuckup he’d already managed in front of Raihan would make all future mishaps pale in comparison – like an embarrassment inoculation.

You catch pidgey-pox once, and then you’re fine.

You look an utter fool in front of Raihan, and then you stop caring.

It would have made sense if his feelings worked that way.

…they did not.

Instead it was more like an allergy, where each event was somehow even more excruciating than the last. The fact that Raihan was polite enough to _pretend_ he didn’t remember Piers acting like an idiot somehow just made it even worse.

Piers _actually did_ give a skwovet’s ass what Raihan thought of him… and he wasn’t eager to test out how deep Raihan’s streak of politeness went with _another_ embarrassment, however minor. Not when he was _just barely_ recovering from the _last_ full scale disaster – not that that was Raihan’s fault. Even if _Piers_ apparently had no ability to behave normally with Raihan, _Raihan’s_ capacity to remain chill seemed surprisingly endless.

He hadn’t even mentioned the incident in the taxi.

It was this thought which propelled Piers to his feet. He was just, _finally_ getting over the humiliation of that first amazing clusterfuck of embarrassment. There was no way he was doing anything like that _ever again_ if he could help it. Better his peers all think he had a bladder the size of a six year old than the common sense of one!

With a muttered “back in a tick” to Marnie, he strode down the aisle to the washroom, ignoring the others as he passed. They wouldn’t think it was weird unless he _acted_ like it was weird, he reminded himself.

The bathroom was empty, so he slid into the closet sized cubicle, latching the door behind him… and immediately made a face, lip curling in disgust.

_Hadn’t these brats ever heard of flushing?_

Train toilets were a bit filthy at the best of times, no need to make it _worse_.

Nasty.

At least it was an easy enough fix, though. Not particularly eager to touch the suspiciously wet looking handle with his hands, he pushed the lever down with a foot, and waited, arms crossed, as it flushed.

And flushed… and flushed…

Piers squawked, scrambling for the emergency water shut off as the filthy water began spilling from the toilet bowl like some kind of disgusting, muk-infested waterfall.

He swore, loudly enough that he was _certain_ all the kids heard, and kicked the thing when it continued burbling ominously even after he’d shut off the pipe, wiping the sewer water off his boots as best he could before storming out into the rest of the train.

“ _Arright_ , which of you filthy buggers used the bog last – you went an’ broke it! The hell were you _doin’_ in there?!” he snarled, with all the indignant irritation he could fit into his tone.

He was _not_ happy to have his opportunity for relief yanked away right in front of him – nor to have his shoes covered in that kind of grime – and he’d have loved nothing more than to know who to take it out on. Nobody owned up though; in fact, Gordie shot back with,

“What’d _we_ do? What’d _you_ do, Piers? It was working fine until _you_ went in!”

He looked and sounded more amused than offended by the accusation.

“What’d I do? _NOTHING!_ Literally nothin’! All I did was flush the fool thing!”

Someone snorted, and he could hear someone – though he couldn’t quite tell if it was Gordie or Raihan – mumble something that sounded suspiciously like “Cool story, bro”. He glared at both of them just in case.

“Well, good thing it broke _after_ we all had a chance to go!” the new champion chirped cheerfully, clearly trying to clear the air.

Piers took a deep breath, trying to tamp down his anger – there was no need to cuss out a twelve year old; they did nothing to deserve it, and likely had no idea how much that statement made him want to strangle them right now.

“Yeah.” He managed, flatly. “Good thing ‘bout that, _huh_?”

He made a rude hand gesture at both his fellow adults (conveniently sitting together opposite to the children, for ease of flipping off) and stalked back to his seat, ignoring another snicker from – who even knew at this point, most of them were probably having a laugh at his expense right at the moment.

To be fair, Piers’s reputation for being a bit of a troublemaking punk was absolutely something he had more than earned over the years. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d broken something in an odd way because it pissed him off. They were probably remembering the… admittedly very memorable string of events from the last time he’d been forced to attend one of Rose’s overly posh Christmas parties.

It was relatively believable – even Piers had to admit – that he’d somehow manage to trash a bathroom, under the right circumstances.

Which was maybe why it was so embarrassing and grating that everyone seemed to think he had when he _actually hadn’t_.

He slid into the seat across from Marnie with a sigh.

“Don’t suppose _you_ believe me either, huh?”

Marnie eyed him, clearly remembering all of the ridiculous activities she’d caught her brother in over the years.

“…not really, no.”

He groaned, propping his chin on his hand, and let his forehead thunk against the window as he did his best to forget both the embarrassment burning his ears, and the aching discomfort that he had _not_ had a chance to relieve.

By the time they were a while further in their trip – maybe another hour – it really wasn’t something he could even pretend to ignore. He was incredibly glad that Marnie seemed content to scroll through something on her phone, rather than talk to him. He didn’t think he’d be a very good conversational partner at the moment, when most of his attention was going to not squirming like a trapped zigzagoon.

There was really nothing to be done but wait until they arrived at the station, so Piers saw no point in broadcasting the situation to the entire train carriage. Bad enough that he’d be dying for a piss the entire way to Lumiose station; it’d only make it that much worse if everyone _knew_.

He wasn’t even eager to admit it to Marnie – that might be a bit less horrible than announcing his need to say, Gordie (or the kids, or Arceus forbid, _Raihan_ ). But admitting to his kid sister – his kid sister who was _perfectly fine_ for her part, mind you – that he was desperate to pee in such an inconvenient situation? It was a whole different type of awkward, and one he’d _also_ rather avoid.

He’d been watching silenced videos on his own phone, considering he felt much to edgy right now to seize the opportunity for a nap – but he sighed and shoved it back into his jacket pocket, flopping face forward onto the table with an unhappy groan. He was bored, but too distracted by the incessant throbbing of his bladder to concentrate on much else.

It was going to be _miserable_ holding it all the way to Lumiose, wasn’t it?

He lay there in silence for a few long moments, and then Marnie’s soft voice broke the silence.

“I got an empty bottle if ya need it.”

He propped himself up on his elbows to look at her, not quite comprehending until he saw the empty water bottle she waved in her hand. He balked, jerking fully upright and awake.

“ _What?_ I’m fine, I don’t need _that_!”

His attempt to play it off was somewhat undercut when his body protested the sudden movement with a sharp twinge of pain, and he hissed, hunching his shoulders and folding in on himself slightly.

Marnie raised her eyebrows.

“I’m not _that_ desperate for a leak, arright?”

She shrugged.

“Suit yourself, I guess.” She set the bottle on the seat beside her, mostly out of view.

“But I don’t see why you’re so shy about it now, when you’re just fine dippin’ into an alley for a –“

“Well this isn’t an alley, now is it?”

“Really though. It isn’t like this’d be the weirdest place you’ve ever…”

“Don’t bring that up, it’s not the same!” he responded quickly, before she could finish the sentence.

“Come on Marnie – y’oughta know by know your bro’s got no standards when he’s drunk!”

She flicked through her phone, not even looking up as she commented,

“…isn’t there some sayin’ bout how drinkin’ just brings out a person’s character?”

He gave her a _look_ , simultaneously offended and impressed by the witty response.

“Aren’t you s’posed t’be a dark type trainer? I thought burns were fire type territory, y’brat.”

“And you call _yourself_ a dark type trainer – can’t y’see I’m throwin’ shade?”

Marnie’s tone was totally serious, but he could see a tiny smirk at the corner of her mouth.

Listening to Marnie drag someone was a thing Piers _always_ got a kick out of, even (maybe especially) when the subject was himself.

She had a clever, dry sense of humor, and throwing shade was practically an official pastime in Spikemuth; they could go at it for ages. He’d have done his best to keep it going this time, too, if he hadn’t been too _distracted_ to focus on it.

Instead, he abandoned the game to look out the window (now showing a blur of scenery, now that they were out of the tunnel) and tap his foot, trying not to think about how badly he wished there _was_ some alley he could duck into.

At least then he wouldn’t be inside, or _surrounded by people_.

This was just… unfair. He hadn’t even drunk too much coffee this morning – how on earth did he _still_ end up the only one desperate for a piss on a train full of _twelve year old children_?!

He played with his bracelets as he zoned out, feeling the smooth metal slide beneath his fingertips. He needed _something_ to do with his hands, to keep them from creeping towards his lap. They stayed like that for a while, quiet.

Piers must have looked just about as miserable as he felt, because after some time, Marnie broke the silence to offer cautiously,

“You sure y’don’t want that bottle?”

“No! I already told you – I’m fine! Just annoyin’ havin’ to wait, is all!”

Marnie gave him a doubtful look.

“Maybe you shoulda thought about that before you busted the toilet…”

“I ALREADY TOLD YA, I DID NOT BREAK THE BLOODY TOILET!”

His sister looked like she was about to say something else when they were interrupted by Raihan – presumably hearing Piers’s irritable shouting – called,

“Hey, everything alright back there?”

Piers froze, unsure how to respond. Raihan was the _absolute last_ person he wanted to know what was wrong, given the history.

Marnie, however, had no such reservations, and immediately called back in a raised voice,

“Well, my bro is burstin’ for a pee back here, but…”

“I said I’m fine!” Piers shouted, slightly more panic in his voice than he would have hoped.

“He’s not fine!” Marnie added, matter-of-factly, and oh look, Piers was starting on the “slowly dying inside” part of the event early today. He lightly shoved her in the arm from across the table.

“Don’t say that to bleedin’ _Raihan_!” he hissed frantically.

Marnie obediently lowered her voice, although she frowned at him in confusion.

“Why not Raihan, specifically?”

…Piers didn’t have a ready answer to that.

Raihan had, as promised, lied his arse off to Marnie about what had happened before the Gym Challenge kickoff – and apparently Raihan was a far better liar than Piers. Because by the next time he’d encountered his sister, she’d been wholly convinced that Piers had skipped out because he’d been _sick_ in the taxi, and he had gladly accepted the misunderstanding.

…he couldn’t exactly tell her that the situation with Raihan was so embarrassing partly because it was _familiar_.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Marnie seemed to draw her own conclusions from his sudden silence.

“Ohh… it’s because you’re _sweet on him_ , isn’t it?”

“ _What?!_ That’s not – “ Stopping abruptly as he remembered the man in question was in fact on the same train, Piers continued in a harsh whisper.

“No! I am _not_ sweet on Raihan!”

Why would she even think that?

Just because he cared about the man’s opinion, and didn’t avoid him like he sometimes would, and waited anxiously for his texts, and… _fuck_.

No wonder Marnie thought he fancied Raihan. That was… a little on the embarrassing side.

“You should quit pinin’ and ask him out already. Y’know he flirts with yah, right?”

“I ain’t pini- wait, _what?!”_

Why would she think _that?_ What was that even supposed to mean? Raihan didn’t flirt! Not with _Piers_ , anyway.

He was just a friendly, flashy, over the top kind of person. Yeah, he came off pretty strong, but that didn’t _mean_ anything – he was like that with everyone.

_…wasn’t he?_

Piers would have pondered that a lot longer, if a particularly urgent wave of pressure hadn’t forced him to cross one leg over the other, tensing his muscles as tightly as possible.

“Not really the best time, Marnie!” He ground out, in a voice that sounded strained even to his own ears. The bizarre bombshell she’d just dropped on him would have to wait for later – he couldn’t afford to be so distracted right now.

After a bit, Marnie said,

“Y’know, my friends’ve been lookin’ bored up there, just the two of ‘em. Think I might go and join’em for the last hour, if you don’t mind?”

The last _hour?_ They still had an entire bloody _hour_ to the station? How hellaciously long did this train ride need to be?

Tamping down his burgeoning horror at the thought, Piers managed a shrug and a hum of agreement to his sister’s plan, tapping his foot restlessly. Marnie gathered her things quickly, slipping out with a quiet “Seeya then”.

As soon as she was gone, Piers shoved a hand down to hold himself, allowing himself to begin truly freaking out.

An _hour?_

He had to go so badly, lasting another hour seemed all but impossible. He hadn’t been _this_ desperate since… since…

 _Since the time in the taxi_ , his brain helpfully supplied, and Piers blanched at the thought.

He cast around for a solution – _anything_ that would save him a repeat of that soul-scorching humiliation. A glint of color caught his eye from the other bench, and he paused, confused.

…Marnie left her lemonade bottle.

Piers balked at the idea – even as jittery and desperate as he was,… he’d lived with Marnie for years. She wasn’t the type of kid to throw her garbage any which way. Which meant that even half-drunk on panic, Piers could not miss the glaring implication that she’d _left it on purpose_.

Pissing in a bottle was awkward, but well within the realm of things Piers would do in a heartbeat, if it saved him enough discomfort or embarrassment.

But… Marnie left him the bottle on purpose. If he used it, _she’d know._

Pissing in a bottle was one thing. Pissing in a bottle knowing his _baby sister_ knew exactly what he was doing and was probably _quietly judging him_ for it? He couldn’t even reassure himself that Marnie wasn’t the judgmental type, because she _absolutely fucking was_ – his sister had a finely tuned bullshit detector, and very little tolerance for it. In general, Piers wholeheartedly approved – encouraged her, even. It was a little less than convenient, though (even as it made him proud) when his sister’s excellent sense for bullshit meant she somehow managed to secure front row seating and popcorn to witness just about every questionable decision Piers, specifically, made.

He would really, _really_ rather just tough it out until Lumiose. But… an hour was way too long. He knew himself well enough to know that trying to do that at this point would just turn this into even more of an unmitigated disaster than it already was. Piers _knew_ that. Apparently Marnie knew that as well, so, so much for subtlety on that front.

And it wasn’t like he could think of a better option.

So he had two options here: and those options seemed to be embarrassing himself a bit with Marnie, or embarrassing himself massively in front of _everyone._ And he’d had most of his life to practice looking like a fool in front of Marnie.

He could do a lot worse than an empty bottle.

Still nervous, he glanced around, poking his head out into the aisle. He had, as usual, sat in the quietest, farthest back part of the carriage he could. Nobody else was sitting close enough to have a line of sight to see him – and everyone except Marnie usually left Piers well enough alone, especially when he was in a bad temper. They’d probably not be pestering him anytime soon after he cussed them out about the bathroom.

He might not be _alone_ , here, but at least he had a _little_ privacy. Better than nothing, anyway.

Decision made, he swiped up the bottle. After a pause, he shrugged off his jacket as well, and laid it across his lap. He was feeling a little exposed, and more than a little paranoid, and _nobody_ on this train needed to catch an eyeful of Piers pissing, thank you very much.

He fidgeted, caught up by last minute nerves despite the heaviness of his bladder.

Despite what Marnie seemed to think, this didn’t feel the same as taking a leak out in an alleyway or – to be honest, he wasn’t sure what else she was referencing with her earlier comment, but he was pretty sure it involved drinking, which made it _definitely_ not the same. Piers really didn’t have any standards when he was drunk, and he was aware enough to realize it.

Didn’t mean he’d do the same shit any other time, though.

The version of Piers who was currently bursting to pee on the train was (maybe unfortunately) _extremely sober_ , and as such, the idea of going in a bottle, with people right around the corner, did not exactly appeal.

Even with the flimsy door to the compartment pulled closed, he could hear the rhythmic sound of the train, the faint murmur of conversations reminding him that he _wasn’t quite alone_ …

Another wave of desperation hit him, and he hurriedly twisted the cap off the bottle, and fumbled to position it beneath his jacket, turning so that his side and back faced the door as he unzipped his pants (and _thank Arceus_ he was wearing pants that _had_ a zipper today – he knew from extremely unfortunate experience _exactly_ how much more difficult it would have made things if he wasn’t).

Piers took a deep breath, and tried to relax. So what if this was embarrassing – it was the best option all around. For all his anxiety and pride, Piers had never been especially _shy_ about this kind of thing; something which he was extremely grateful for in moments such as this.

The noise of his piss splashing into the bottle sounded inordinately loud, to his ears, and he felt a flush heating his face. But even so, he was glad to _have_ a solution – to be able to _let go._

Despite his nervousness, the relief was almost euphoric, and he sighed, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders slowly relax.

For a long moment, all he thought about was how wonderful it felt to _finally pee_ , no matter how awkward the situation. It was fine. Nobody was watching, nobody would hear over the distance and background noise of the train… nobody would know about this except him and Marnie, and he could deal with that.

He let some of his stress evaporate, feeling a strange sense of calm now that everything was settled.

Then, the sliding door of the compartment slammed open.

Piers yelped, simultaneously attempting to hunch in on himself to block the view, and whip around to look at the intruder.

“Hey Piers, you aren’t _too_ upset, are you? You seemed, um…”

Raihan’s voice was too friendly, too concerned – why did he have to pick _now_ to worry about Piers’s mood?

The single time Piers _least_ wanted someone to be friendly – he had his jacket covering him, yeah, but he absolutely did not want to have a chat with Raihan _with his dick out_.

Not when – for fuck’s sake, he was _still peeing_!

“Get outta here! M’fine!” he snapped, making a sharp gesture at the other man, even as he was vaguely aware that his snarling expression and borderline hysterical tone were _not_ going to do much to convince Raihan he was in a decent mood.

“You don’t _sound_ fine, man…”

“Nah, I’m – don’t – _get out_! I’m not bloody _angry_ , I’m takin’ a piss! Could yah please just GO AWAY?!”

His desperate plea came too late – Raihan stepped into the car without hesitation, freezing as his eyes met Piers’s, flicking down the other gym leader’s body and taking in his hunched posture, panicked expression – the awkward drape of his jacket over his lap and hands, and the dying sound of liquid trickling into a container.

Piers could see the exact moment that the realization dawned on Raihan exactly what Piers had just said, eyes widening in shock. He did not _think_ about what to do next: the correct solution was obvious, and that was _absolutely anything_ that would get Raihan to _stop watching him piss._

“OUT!” he yelled, automatically swinging one of his hands up to shoo Raihan away in a sharp motion. Raihan took a hesitant step back, looking as if he was still unsure quite what he was seeing.

“Get outta he- _fuck!”_ Piers’s angry protests dissolved into a cascade of profanity as warm liquid soaked rapidly into his lap. Somewhere between his gesticulating, and looking at Raihan, and flinching around trying to protect his privacy, _he had tipped over the bloody bottle._

He hurried to stop it from spilling any further, Raihan’s presence abruptly taking a backseat to the vastly more urgent issue. He was done pissing – couldn’t start again if he tried, given the situation – so he fumbled to secure the cap on the damp bottle, and got his pants back in some semblance of modesty, lip curling in disgust at the feeling of the soggy fabric. Then, and only then, did he take stock of the situation, the weight of humiliation hitting him like a freight train.

Raihan just walked in on him _pissing in a bottle_ , after everyone thought _he_ was the one who broke the damn toilet…. _and then he spilled piss all over himself anyways._

Piers groaned, reaching up to tug at his choker before stopping abruptly as he realized his hands were probably _covered in piss_ , and instead wiped them on a clean part of his outfit, and carefully moved his jacket aside – cursing again as he realized that that was certainly going to need a wash as well.

He played with one of his bracelets instead, on the assumption that it was already dirty, and he’d hardly make it worse now. He could feel heat crawling up his neck, flushing his cheeks, and knew that he was probably sporting an absolutely ridiculous looking blush, thanks to his vampire-pale skin tone.

“…d’ya mind?” he mumbled flatly, barely bothering to say the words audibly. He could see Raihan in the doorway from the corner of his eye, but he did not look at him. He could not _deal_ with looking at him. He pissed himself in front of Raihan. In a public area. _And it wasn’t even the first time._

There were some things that your pride simply did not recover from.

There was a second or so of silence. Maybe more – Piers wasn’t really paying attention, he was busy trying to decide whether it was a viable option to walk off the train at Lumiose station, change his name, and start a new life doing _literally anything_ where people he admired hadn’t seen him piss himself on public transit _multiple times_.

Raihan cleared his throat.

“Look, um. Sorry for, um.”

Piers glared at him, now, his usual resting bitch face no doubt back in full force.

“ _What._ ” 

He fully expected Raihan to take the rudeness at face value – most people did, after all, and that was the _point_ , wasn’t it? But instead, the other man’s face softened slightly, as though he read something – _hell if Piers knew what_ – in the Dark type trainer’s response.

“Don’t worry man. I don’t care, it’s cool.”

“ _It’s really not…”_ Piers hissed, and Raihan quickly held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Sorry. You’re right, I didn’t mean… I just meant, you don’t have to freak out about it. Just bad timing, you know? I should’ve knocked. What else are you gonna do when the toilet’s broke, right?” He chuckled, but it was his usual, lighthearted laugh – nothing mocking or rude about it.

That… wasn’t what Piers had been expecting. It still was in the territory of _emphatically not okay,_ but…

“…s’pose so.” he mumbled, making a face at the mess, and trying not to let it show how close he was edging to panic. He must not have done a good job though, because he flinched as Raihan leaned in and put a hand on his arm.

“Really, it’s fine.” He said, his smile distinctly gentler than usual. “You got some other clothes in that bag of yours, right?”

That was right. This was a three day event – he _did_ have other clothing in his luggage. Piers slumped slightly, breathing out a sigh of relief. _Thank Arceus for that, at least._

“I’ll watch the door while you change, make sure nobody busts in on you again, y’know?”

Piers gave Raihan a curt nod, not quite ready to acknowledge the situation out loud, but nevertheless grateful that Raihan had his back. The other man turned to leave, then stopped, glancing back over the threshold with a smirk.

“…unless you’d rather I _stay?”_ he added, winking. Piers frowned, opening his mouth to respond, but Raihan laughed and waved it off, ducking through the doorway before Piers could say anything.

Piers snorted, feeling slightly better despite himself as he stood up to dig through his bag on the luggage rack. What was that all about? Why on earth would he want Raihan to stay while he took off his-

Piers froze, hand stilling midway through rifling around for a new outfit as it hit him.

He turned around, and let his head thunk against the compartment wall with a groan.

_He was never going to live this down.  
_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I appreciate comments, thoughts... or you're always free to come find me on tumblr at omoyasha.tumblr.com!
> 
> Also, this has not been thoroughly edited - please let me know if you find any glaring errors.
> 
> Please join me in giving this beloved train wreck of a gym leader the absolute worst luck humanly possible. <3


End file.
